


Stars

by lividcolors



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M, also kind of?, i dont know, kind of?, like canon-only better!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lividcolors/pseuds/lividcolors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set somewhere after the season eight finale, only different where Sam heals naturally and Dean never kicks Cas out of the bunker. Cas is human and kinda mopey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

There are nights when Castiel hates what he has become. Nights when he looks to the stars, the endless expanse of space, and longs for when he used to  _be that_.  There was a time, not too long ago and yet so very long ago, when he was pure energy. He was his own star, burning hotly and brightly, brighter even than any of the stars in the sky. His grace had always shone brilliantly, more than most angels. 

It had been something he was proud of, something to be admired. He was Castiel, and he'd had the most glaringly luminous grace, some said since  _Lucifer_. He had been revered, the best strategist, bravest warrior, commanding Heaven's armies with an efficiency unrivaled by any. He was something to be marveled at. 

And now he was  _this_. Broken in every way possible, he could best be described as a mess. His wings, once large and beautiful, were broken, shattered and burnt. His grace, once white hot, blazing with an intensity that left all in awe, was gone. Metatron had taken it, had stolen from him his very _being_. He does not know if he has grown a new human soul in it's place to accommodate for it, and a small, angry part of him hopes that he hasn't.

It is on nights like these that Castiel usually takes it upon himself to find one of the bottles of liquor that he knows Dean keeps around the bunker and see how much he can drink before he stops remembering. He wants to drink enough forget all that he is and all that he used to be. He wants to drink enough to forget the feel of air and wind running through his wings, to forget the fire he used to burn with, the weightlessness he used to carry with him. Castiel wants to drink enough to forget  _everything_.

Only tonight he can't. He had searched the bunker, had searched long and hard, but in the end there had been nothing to find. He is not sure where all of it went, but he has an idea that Dean might have gotten rid of it after the last time he found Cas drunk out of his mind on the bathroom floor. There is not much Castiel remembers of that night, but the one thing he fears will be seared into his mind for the rest of his existence is Dean's face, clouded with frustration and what looked a lot, at the time, like sadness.  The disappointment Cas had seen there had been enough to keep him away for a while, it had been over a month, but Castiel had always known that he would break, and the day has been so much harder than most.

He had briefly entertained the idea of finding some of the narcotics he  _knows_ the boys keep for hunts, but he had dismissed the idea pretty quickly. He remembered the day he had taken some, he'd had a headache all day long and Sam had given him a couple, but the look on Dean's face when he found out was enough. And besides, those were for after hunts, when the boys were  _actually_ hurt and needed them. Castiel couldn't possibly take those.

And so he finds himself outside, laying in the grass. He stares up into the sky, so full of stars, endless and eternal in its very being, and he wishes for what he once was and does his very best not to hate what he is now. It is here that Dean finds him.

He only becomes aware of Dean's presence when Dean lays down next to him, and he has to wonder how long Dean has been out here with him. Dean's shoulder is brushing his, and Castiel wants to lean into it, to chase the contact. He does not.

They lay together in silence for a long while. Castiel does not find it uncomfortable, and instead finds Dean's solid presence next to him comforting.

Eventually, Dean lets out a sigh. "So, this is where you've been all night?" he asks. The question seems a bit self explanatory to Castiel, and he does not feel like speaking, so he doesn't. It is only after a minute of his silence that Dean lets out another quiet sigh and shifts a bit closer. Now most of their arms and hips are touching, and Castiel doesn't stop himself from leaning into Dean. A quiet sigh escapes his own lips without his permission.

They lay for another quiet while and simply watch the stars, and then Castiel's hand is being pulled and Dean's fingers are threaded in his. Dean's grip is hesitant and it feels like he may pull away before Castiel firmly squeezes his hand. Dean sighs once more and relaxes.

"Cas, you'd tell me if you weren't okay right?" Dean asks, and Castiel ignores the question. He instead lays his head on Dean's shoulder, and relishes in the feel when Dean begins to softly card his fingers through Cas's hair.

"You need a hair cut, man," Dean jokes. "Soon yours'll be as long as Sammy's," he says. Castiel only smiles in return. 

He understands that this moment can't last forever. He understands that soon he will have to get up, will have to leave this quiet night, but right now he is laying with Dean under the stars, and he has forgotten about all that he hates, about all that he wishes were different. Right now, he feels okay. 

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos and comments, because they make my day and give me life. Thanks!


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